Combat
by colormetheworld
Summary: Prompt from tumblr: Flat tire, rain falling, bad neighborhood.
1. Over There

_No good deed goes unpunished_.

This is the first thought that runs through Maura's mind as she pulls the vehicle over to the side of the road. The dust plume that her wheels have kicked up in their wake overtakes her, and for a long moment she just sits in the car, gathering herself.

She is going to have to get out and see about the wheel. Whatever she hit has definitely damaged the tire, and she takes a final second to hope that it is just that and not the axel or the rims.

But the night is pitch dark beyond her headlights, and who knows what the rural dirt roads hold in terms of danger.

She steps out of the car, flashlight tight in her hands, and the world is illuminated for a split second by the flash of thunder.

"No," Maura says, looking up at the sky.

The thunder rolls in answer.

"Okay," Maura says, hefting the tool bag from the floor of the backseat. "Here we go."

…

She is soaked to the skin almost immediately. The rain follows the thunder within minutes, and though she deduces that the tire of her vehicle is the only thing that has sustained any damage, she realizes very quickly that she just isn't strong enough to change it by herself.

"This is why they warn us never to take the vehicles out alone," Maura tells her non-existent companion. "And never after dark."

 _That's not the only reason_.

The part of her that is scared, the part of her that she has been shoving down and out of consciousness since she arrived in this new country, it rears its ugly head. She stands back from her vehicle and crosses her arms over her chest.

Would it be better to walk?

She contemplates the repercussions of leaving a military grade vehicle on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Granted it is not armed or even full of gas. She is closer to the base than to the settlement, and she doubts that anyone with ill intentions would be able to do more than drive it around for an hour or so. On the other hand-

Her musing is cut short by a second pair of headlights on the road, coming from the same way she had been, which is not reassuring. Sure enough, the car that grinds to a halt in the pouring rain is a civilian jeep, four men, rain hoods obscuring their faces…but not their shotguns.

"Get in," the driver calls to her over the rumble of more thunder.

"No, thank you," Maura says, stepping back. She realizes that she is shivering. It is not just from the cold.

"Get _in_ ," the man in the passenger seat says, more forcefully.

"Like fucking shit," A rough voice says from behind Maura, and she turns to see the end of an Assault rifle, balanced across the window of the passenger's side of her car. The person who owns the voice is hidden behind the steel of the car's body. "Why don't you assholes continue on your way?"

The occupants of the jeep say a couple words in their language, which Maura recognizes as profanity.

The man hidden behind her vehicle throws the words right back, and as a flash of lightening pitches everything into daylight for a moment, Maura realizes that he is wearing a US issued vest, and that the gun is military issued.

She feels relief wash over her, as real as the rain.

The men in the jeep seem to think that she is no longer worth their time, and with a couple more swear words, they speed off into the darkness.

The soldier stands and trains his gun on the taillights until they are only specks in the distance, and then he stands straight and presses a hand to his vest. "Yo, Frost. We're clear, over."

At this, there is the gun of an engine and the flash of two more headlights, perpendicular to Maura's vehicle. She blinks against the new light, and as her eyes adjust, she sees that her rescuer is not a man, but a _woman_. She pulls her helmet off and shakes out her hair, and the ATV that was hiding in the scrub brush, pulls up alongside them.

"It's a flat," the woman soldiers says, her voice still deep and rough. "You owe me sixty."

The driver of the ATV hops out, carrying his own bag of supplies. "Damn," he says. "The way it bucked I was sure it was an axel."

The woman soldier rolls her eyes, reaching out for the carjack Frost holds up. "Axel goes on this puppy? It's gonna throw the doctor clear out."

Maura watches as they move to the tire and crouch down simultaneously to inspect it. Frost whistles low between his teeth.

"Fuckin' knew it," the woman says darkly.

Maura can't be quiet any longer. "Ah, excuse me," she says slowly. "Who-"

The woman looks up at her over her shoulder. "I'm Rizzoli," she says, "This is Frost." She turns back to inspect the wheel, and Maura gets her first good look at the identifying insignias on the soldiers arms.

Frost's indicates that he is a Corporal.

Rizzoli's…indicates Master Sargent.

The doctor's gasp makes the other two jump up, alert. They both pull their weapons and train them in opposite directions, so graceful that it seems choreographed.

"What?" Frost asks her, tight-lipped. "more headlights?"

"Oh," Maura is glad that the darkness might hide some of her blush. "No…I…" she looks at the woman lowering her weapon.

"Jesus," Rizzoli says. "You can't make noises like that when we're out here alone, okay?"

Maura opens her mouth, but an answer doesn't come to her.

"Lay off her, Jay," Frost says softly. It strikes Maura as too familiar a reprimand for their ranks. They must be something else to each other besides comrades.

"She nearly got herself abducted. You want me to lay off her?"

They turn back to the wheel, and with their combined effort, manage to loosen the bolts enough to remove and replace the tires. Maura watches without saying anything else, until Rizzoli climbs behind the wheel of her vehicle and Frost heads back towards their ATV.

"I'm perfectly capable of getting it back to it's-" she begins, but Rizzoli glares at her, and she can see that even Frost raises his eyes to the heavens.

"Get. In the car," the woman says between gritted teeth, and although this is the same exact sentence her would-be abductors had used, Maura obeys. And she knows better than to point this out.

…

She is expecting to be reprimanded by the Chief of Staff the next day. She expects to be told to review the safety protocol, perhaps even restricted to the base for a period of time. She expects that Rizzoli or Frost will come to scold her as well.

None of that happens.

Business continues as usual. No one seems to be any the wiser in regards to her nighttime jaunts. There is not even an inquiry about the vehicle, and how it managed to blow a tire while sitting in a garage.

It is almost two weeks until she sees Rizzoli and Frost again. They are in a settlement forty miles from base, have been called there to see to the victims of the latest firefight, and when they'd arrived, Maura had seen that the victims were civilians and soldiers alike. Marines sitting on the same worn cots as women and children.

The sight makes her want to cry. It fills her with a kind of molten determination.

Frost is her fifth patient. She turns to greet whoever is next, and feels her eyes go wide in recognition. Frost only chuckles, holding out his hand.

"Corporal Barry Frost, Dr. Isles," He says easily. "Good to officially meet you."

Maura takes his hand, reassured by how kind his face is, and gestures he should sit on her makeshift examination table. "What happened?" she asks. "You're my first soldier of the day."

"Worst off civilians first," Frost says. "Last Guard came from nowhere, fully armed to the teeth. They would have wiped everyone off the map if we hadn't been heading through. Right place, right time."

Maura presses lightly on his ribcage, raising an eyebrow when he hisses. "Not the right place for that particular rib, I'm afraid," she says, looking up when he chuckles.

"Sorry," he says, sobering at her expression. "That was funny."

"You won't think so in a moment," she says, and she uses the split second in which he is distracted to press the break firmly back into place.

Frost yelps.

"Corporal," she calls, when he is getting ready to leave a few moments later. He turns back to her. "I…wanted to thank you for…coming to my rescue the other night. I'm not sure what I would have done if you and – ah – Sargent Rizzoli hadn't arrived."

Frost grins at her. She wonders how a man in the middle of this war can have such a kind face.

"You know, Jane –that's the Sergeant? – she is in charge of the whole lot of you," Frost glances at her and recognizes her confusion. "I mean the doctors," he clarifies. "She oversees your boss. She's keeps track of all your supplies, makes sure you're all safe and accounted for, that sort of thing." He raises his eyebrows. "There's not a whole lot that goes on with the Medical Crew that she doesn't know about."

He pulls on a white undershirt over her bindings as Maura digests this.

It isn't possible. She'd been so careful. She'd made sure that she never took the same vehicle. She never went on the same day. No one had ever know…had they? Could the Master Sargeant know that she has been stealing vehicles to make house calls to scared, sick refugees since the third week of her arrival?

No.

No?

"Why wouldn't she tell anyone?" Maura blurts out, Just as Frost is pulling up the flap of the tent to take his leave.

He looks back at her. "You'll have to ask her," he says with a smirk. "She's next."

…

Master Sergeant Jane Rizzoli has a fractured nose and a mildly concerning laceration on the outside of her bicep that requires cleaning and stitches. She comes into the tent in just her fatigue bottoms and tank top, and where Frost's face had been open and kind, Maura thinks that this woman looks hardened and sharpened under the weight of the war.

"Local anesthesia," Maura says, holding up the syringe. Jane gives her a curt nod. She hasn't truly spoken since she entered the tent, and Maura feels unaccountably awkward, just as she had during the silent ride back to base the night of her flat tire.

When Jane's gruff voice finally breaks the silence, Maura almost misses with her needle.

"You need to take a JLTV."

"I'm…sorry?" Maura pauses her work as Jane glances up at her.

"When you go out. You need to take a JLTV, one of the bigger model vehicles. And switch up your routes. You take the same one to each settlement. People can follow your routine."

Maura stares at her. "You know I've been sneaking out?"

For a brief moment, the other woman smirks. "Yes," she says. "It's my business to know."

"JLTVs are harder to navigate alone," Maura says, deciding not to ask why she isn't in trouble.

"I'm going to accompany you," Jane says matter-of-factly, and although there are several pros to this idea, Maura fires up at once without pausing to consider them.

"You can't order me the way you order your privates around," she says. "I don't report to you."

Jane frowns. "Technically you do," she says. "But it's not an order. I'll accompany you. Or you just won't go. Your choice."

Maura sputters. "You'd deny sink and frightened people the chance to have access to medical supplies and antibiotics."

Jane blinks at her, impassive. "No, doctor," she says tightly. "You would, by not accepting my offer."

"If the government cared about more than protecting the exports our country depends on, then there would not be a war to injur these people at all. You do not allow me the time to make a full diagnosis, or to do a follow- up visit, and then when I find a way to work around-"

"Your LTV ran over road spikes," the soldier stands, cutting her off. She no longer looks uncaring. "You hit road spikes specifically designed to disable your vehicle. Do you know what that car of men had planned for you?"

Maura has stepped back, startled at the passion in the other woman's voice.

"They tracked you. They laid a trap. If I didn't figure out where you were going, and follow you every night, you would right now be screaming for help from some underground torture shack with no one to hear you."

Jane presses her hands together, and Maura notices that she has scars on the palms and the backs of them. She looks back up into the woman's face.

"I…didn't realize," she says.

Jane's face softens. Just barely. "You're not in America, Dr. Isles," she says quietly. "And there is no good guy or bad guy here. I'm not so deluded that I believe that. But I have a directive to protect my company, and to make sure the Medical Crew is safe. I take it seriously."

Silence.

Maura steps back up to Jane, who sits slowly, and the stitching begins again.

"I'm sorry," Maura says. Jane doesn't answer for a long time.

"You know that…kid you saw on your seventh trip?"

Maura raises an eyebrow. "Boy or girl?"

"Little boy. Really little. His appendix burst?"

Maura smiles. "Yes." She taps Jane's arm to let her know she's all done, and watches as her work is inspected.

"Is he okay? Did his stitches get infected? I shooed him back inside from play field every time I could."

Maura feels both awe and shame. She has been too quick to judge. "He's doing well. I received word from his mother last week when we were in the refugee settlement."

Jane stands, nodding. Some of her hair has come loose from her bun. She swipes at it.

"Good," she says brusquely. "Well…thanks, doctor. And if you'd rather travel with Frost, I'm sure he'll do it. Hell, it doesn't matter. I out rank him." She grins, a cheeky, rather sexy thing.

"I wouldn't rather," Maura says. "Thank you."

…

…

" _Thank you for helping back there, Sergeant. I find working with toddlers always requires an extra couple of hands."_

" _No problem. I have two kid brothers. I've seen worse."_

" _Have you?"_

" _Yeah. Once I dared Frankie to climb this old tree in the park? He must'a been twenty feet up when a branch broke. I carried him on my back screaming, all the way home. Ankle bone sticking through his skin."_

" _Unfortunate."_

" _What was unfortunate was how bad my Pop tanned my hide for letting him do that."_

" _He_ _hit_ _you?"_

" _Yeah. When he was pissed or drunk. Or both."_

" _That's abuse."_

"… _Well, no one's perfect. And God gave him Cancer for it…so…"_

" _I'm sorry, Sergeant. I didn't mean to sound judgmental. I…just don't believe a child could ever do something that would justify violence."_

"… _Thanks…"_

"… _Your hands hurt more today?"_

" _What?"_

" _You've been rubbing them. And it was foggy this morning. I assume they hurt more during the foggy weather."_

" _Jesus, yeah! They do. More than rain even. How did you know that?"_

" _There's more moisture in the air. That exacerbates the problem I would assume. I can show you some pressure points that might relieve the pain."_

"… _yeah. Thanks, Doctor."_

" _You can call me Maura…Well, I suppose you can't, not in public, but…Here. You can. If you wish."_

" _Okay…And you can call me Jane. Here. And maybe in civilian life. If I get there."_

" _You'll get there, Jane. Don't say morbid things like that. What are you smiling at."_

" _Nothin…I just…I like the way you say my name. Can you say it again?"_

" _Jane."_

" _It's been a while since anyone called me that, but I like it from you, especially, I guess. Sorry. I made you uncomfortable."_

" _Not at all. But it's polite to return the favor. Under the circumstances."_

" _What? Oh! Maura…I'm sorry, Maura."_

" _I will like it very, very much when we are just Maura & Jane. And you will get there. I have faith." _

" _Me too... Keep your eyes on the road."_

…

"Doctor Isles?"

Maura looks up to see Susie Chang standing in her door. The look on her face says she's been standing there for a while.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Chang, I lost myself. What can I do for you?"

"There's someone up in the bullpen to see you. I said I'd come and see if you were available."

Maura stands, feeling in the stiffness of her back the long hours she's spent in the chair. "Something to do with this case?"

"No, Doctor, I don't think so. Do you want me to say that you're-"

"No," Maura summons a smile as she exits her office, Susie on her heels. "I'm fine."

She is not fine. Not really.

She has been home, in Boston, for almost a year, the Chief Medical Examiner at the precinct for half of that, but her time in Doctors Without Borders still clings to her like mist.

In her downtime, in the moments when she is not actively occupying her brain, the warzones drift back to her in cloudy hazes. Children and women and soldiers. Blood and tears and sweat that never fully washes away.

Master Sergeant Jane Rizzoli drifts back to her. The months they spent alone together, making clandestine trips to and from settlements so that Maura could be the kind of doctor she wanted to be.

She rounds the corner into the bullpen, and is able to locate the visitor at once. She stands straight, hands behind her back, looking formal even in a pair of slacks and a v-neck t-shirt. Her long hair is pulled tightly back into a bun, and her sharp features are focused with their usual impassive attention on Police Chief Sean Cavenaugh as he speaks to her.

Jane Rizzoli.

Maura hears herself make a noise that would embarrass her in any other situation. Jane looks around at the sound and her neutral expression falls away into the cheeky, dimpled grin that Maura had only seen on a few occasions.

She nods an apology to Cavenaugh, and steps around him, towards Maura, whose feet feel rooted to the spot.

"Hello, Doctor," Jane says when she is close enough.

Maura wants to cry. She shakes her head. "You disappeared."

Jane's smile fades. "I got reassigned," she says. "And then extended."

"You never wrote."

"I thought you'd hate me," Jane says quietly. She is not smiling at all now. She looks concerned, possibly disappointed. "I couldn't, but you didn't know that, and then I thought…it'd been too long to really-"

"You called me doctor just now," Maura interrupts.

Jane blinks at her. "What?"

"You called me doctor, just now, Jane." It is hard to keep looking so solemn when now all she wants to do is laugh.

Jane's mouth twitches. She raises her eyebrows. "It's good to see you, Maura," she says, voice dropping low the way it does when she's particularly emotional.

Maura laughs. There are tears in her eyes.

"Welcome home, Jane."


	2. Over Here

_There is one day that Maura does not take her routine, nightly trip into the settlements. She is waiting by the main camp for Sergeant Rizzoli, as usual, but it is Corporal Frost who appears.  
"Evening, Doctor," He says with a smile. "I'm going to be your escort tonight. I hope that agrees with you."  
"No!" Maura says before she can stop herself. "I mean, yes…I'm sorry, I was just thrown."  
Frost grins. "No worries," He says. "Are you ready?"  
Maura hesitates. "Is Sergeant Rizzoli injured?" The thought makes her feel ill, and the thought that none of her staff reported it to her makes her feel angry.  
"No, ma'am," Frost says quickly, seeing the look on her face. "I mean, nothing that required serious medical attention. She was involved in a pretty nasty firefight today…" he looks at her, and then away. "She lost two in her company."  
The news knocks the wind out of the doctor. "Oh," She says, crossing her arms over her chest. "But I'm sure it wasn't a result of her leadership?" It comes out as a question, not as a firm statement the way she wants.  
The Corporal scoffs. "Course not. Casualties were pretty big. She lost the least. Chango is gonna pull through because she all but carried him back." Frost shakes his head. "But she doesn't see it like that."  
"She's taking it hard," Maura murmurs, more to herself than to the young man, but he answers anyway.  
"She takes it all hard. It's what makes her a great leader."  
Maura looks up at his tone, and realizes that he's interpreted her comment as an insult. It is this misunderstanding that makes up her mind.  
"May I see her?"  
Frost's eyebrows shoot up. "Jay-Sergeant Rizzoli?" he asks, "You want to see her?"  
Maura nods. "I do. Is that possible?"  
Frost looks at her for a long time before answering. "Yes," he says. "I think so."  
"If she doesn't want to be disturbed," Maura begins, not quite knowing how the sentence will end.  
If she doesn't want to be disturbed, I don't care.  
If she doesn't want to be disturbed, I'll go in anyway.  
"I think she'll see you," Frost says, gesturing at her to follow. "Come with me."_

…  
Sergeant Jane Rizzoli wants to kiss Maura. She hadn't been sure about the nature of the tension, when they were working abroad, but now the desire is visible quite clearly, especially when they are alone.

Maura wonders why she doesn't act, but the definite restraint that Jane exhibits holds Maura back too.

They meet for their fifth dinner in almost two weeks, for all intents and purposes a date, though Maura would never suggest such a thing. She opens the door on Jane, feeling the familiar swoop of her stomach as the other woman steps into the hall.

"Hello, Jane!" she says warmly.

Jane smiles at her feet. "Hey, Maura. It's good to see you." She glances up and then away again. "I'm sorry I didn't have time to change. Headquarters kept me late, and I barely got a shower."

Maura shakes her head, more to dispel the idea of Jane's body on display than to disagree. "It's no problem," she says. "It's good to see you, too."

It's the first time that Jane has been to her house on her own, and Maura can tell that the other woman feels nervous. She follows the doctor into the kitchen, and when told to sit, she chooses the stool at the breakfast bar that does not have a direct view of Maura at the stove. She presses her hands together, and then massages her palms gently with her index and thumb.

"You're nervous," Maura says, making sure that her tone stays gentle.

"No!" Jane says, but when her eyes jump to meet Maura's they soften. "I mean...yeah. A little, I guess."

She shrugs. "Sorry."

"It's perfectly alright," Maura says easily. "I'm a bit nervous myself."

Jane raises an eyebrow. "You? No way. Nothing flusters you."

"I didn't say I was flustered," Maura answers with a laugh. "I said I was a bit nervous. There is a difference."

"Do I make you nervous?" Jane asks her. The question has slipped past whatever barrier she's put between them. It falls squarely into the category of flirting, but Jane doesn't seem to notice. She waits for Maura to answer, a small smirk on her lips.

Maura swallows. "Yes," she says. "If I'm honest."

Jane's smirk intensifies. It turns a little smug.

Maura thinks it's possibly one of the most attractive things she's ever witnessed. "But it's also a very nice feeling," she continues, when Jane doesn't reply. "It's an anticipatory type of nervousness."

She has gone too far. She watches as Jane shuts down whatever response she had to Maura's barely covert invitation. She looks down at her hands, worrying them again.

"I'm - uh - glad I don't make you uncomfortable," Jane says to the counter.

Maura decides not to let the retreat bother or deter her. "We spent hours, and hours together in a car, just the two of us," she says lightly. "I don't see why you and me alone in the house should be very different."

Jane looks up at her, suddenly serious. "But it is," she says, "different. Isn't it, Maura?"

Maura gets a little shiver at the very deliberate use of her name. She steps up to the counter across from Jane without dropping eye contact.

"Yes," she answers. "It is."

…  
 _Because she is the only woman of her rank on base, Jane has the luxury of a barrack all to herself. Frost makes Maura wait outside while he knocks, and then slowly pushes the door open despite the absence of verbal permission._

 _He is back less than a minute later, and he gestures that she can enter._

 _"Do you want me to wait?" He asks. "if you're not long, we could still make your run."_

 _Maura only hesitates for a short moment. "No," she replies. "Another night will be okay."_

 _Frost nods, and as she steps into the little room, Frost descends._

 _"Don't be nervous," he says as he passes, and when she looks up at him, surprised, he grins._

 _"She wouldn't agree to see just anyone like this." He continues, "you're special." And then he is gone._

 _Maura turns back to the room. She takes a deep breath, and enters._

 _Jane is sitting on the end of the bottom bunk with her back to the door. She is still wearing her field uniform, though her boot laces are untied, as though she started to change, and then didn't have the ability to sustain the action._

 _Maura's heart goes out to her. She'd seen the Medi-van return to base with the bodies, and she'd seen the other doctors attending the wounded. She knows what it is like to lose a patient on the operating table, but she is sure it does not compare to watching a bullet tear through that same body._

 _"Sergeant?"_

 _She tries to keep her voice soft, but the other woman still jumps._

 _Jane turns to look at her, and the combination of pain and surprise in her eyes is enough to pull Maura further into the room._

 _"Are you-"_

 _"Please don't ask if I'm okay," Jane cuts her off. Her voice is exhausted. Hopeless._

 _She shrugs her shoulders and Maura can see that the movement causes another flicker of pain. "I'm not okay."_

 _Maura feels helpless. For a moment, she just stands there in the silence, her brain stalling._

 _And then, she does the only thing she knows how to do. The thing that she is best at._

 _She doctors._

 _Kneeling down in front of Jane, she takes a breath to steady her hands and then reaches up to the top of the woman's coat._

 _"Can I help you?" she asks softly._

 _Jane doesn't seem to have registered Maura's movement, and it takes her a moment to find and focus on her. She stares at the doctor in confusion._

 _Maura offers a small smile. "You started to change," Maura points out. "You're in pain. Can I help you, please?"_

 _Jane nods slowly, and Maura nods and unbuttons the top six buttons on her uniform before Jane's hands shoot out to cover hers._

 _"Doctor," she says hoarsely. Her voice is strained._

 _"You're okay," Maura says softly. "It's okay."_

 _"It's okay," Jane parrots her weakly. Her hands loosen on Maura's, finally dropping away._

 _Maura continues until she can reach up and ease the uniform down off of Jane's shoulders._

 _The Sergeant's left shoulder is bruised black and blue into where it disappears under her tank top. Lower, there is a bloodstain holding the thin cotton fabric to her stomach._

 _Maura- Dr. Isles- is practiced in keeping her face neutral._

 _"Sergeant?" Maura looks up into brown eyes, clearer at the sound of her formal rank._

 _"Doctor," she says, looking down at herself when she sees Maura's gaze. "It's nothing. It doesn't hurt"_

 _Maura nods. "Will you let me look, just the same? Infection risks are different out here."_

 _Jane nods, still not fully in the present. Maura pushes her backwards gently, until she is lying flat on the bottom bunk, and then reaches for the hem of her tank top._

 _"Firefight," Jane murmurs up at her as Maura inspects the wound on her abdomen. It's shallow, not worrying, but Maura still sets to work cleaning it._

 _"Corporal Frost says you behaved extremely heroically," she says softly._

 _"Lost Oakley and Freeman," she says vaguely. "There was nothing I could do."_

 _"Everyone knows that," Maura assures her. "You did everything possible."_

 _Some of Maura's hair falls over her face as she works, and Jane reaches up to catch some of it in her hand._

 _"Maura," she says, as though just realizing that she's there._

 _"Yes," Maura answers. She realizes she feels tenderly for this woman, that she has come to care for her, in just the short time they've spent together._

 _"I didn't anticipate the right flank breech. I didn't-"_

 _"Jane," Maura says firmly. "This was not your fault."_

 _Jane doesn't say anything, but she keeps twisting a lock of the doctor's hair gently around her finger. It takes Maura a long moment to realize the intimacy of the situation. She puts her hand up to Jane's gently, stilling her movement._

 _"I'm sorry," Jane says quietly. "I'm sorry."_

 _"You have nothing to be sorry for."_

 _"This isn't what I wanted, you know?" She looks up into Maura's eyes. "I wanted to prove I was strong, and live my own life...Get away from my Pop, and I..."  
She trails off, eyes shining. Maura reaches out and puts her hand against Jane's forehead._

 _"Hush."_

 _"I know how horrible things are out there," Jane says, fiercely. "Just because I fight, just because I follow orders doesn't mean I'm stupid."_

 _"No one thinks you are-"_

 _"They're dying!" Jane says, sitting up so that she and Maura are face to face. "They're dying and we're dying, and nothing is getting fixed. Do you know how many civilians died in the firefight today, Doctor Isles?"_

" _You don't have to-"_

" _Seventeen. And I didn't save any of them. I didn't even try. I was so focused on getting the kid out of there that I didn't even blink at the sounds of their screaming. I didn't even flinch."_

 _Maura shakes her head. "You saved the life of one of your-"_

" _I let seventeen innocent people die. And for what? You don't think Last Guard is evil. You've told me as much. You don't even think they're rebels._ _We're_ _the enemy. We're the ones who just arrived, trying to tell them how to live their lives and who they should be loyal to. And then we kill seventeen of their loved ones."_

" _You_ _didn't kill them," Maura says, leaning forward so that she can look directly into Jane's eyes. "_ _You_ _didn't kill them. They...were killed, yes. And it's horrible, yes. But it is not_ _your_ _doing, Jane. Please tell me you understand that."_

 _But Jane has started to cry. She presses her hands to her face, and she cries right there, half in uniform._

 _Maura puts her hand on the back of Jane's head, but she doesn't say anything._

 _She has no idea what to say._

…

…

They do this often; this game of advance and retreat that often leaves them in the gray area where they began. Maura has never met someone who is so simultaneously charming and open, and guarded and aloof as Jane is.

Dinner is by turns easy, and terribly uncomfortable.

"The food is amazing, Maura," Jane says between bites.

"You're welcome anytime," Maura says without thinking.

"Don't tempt me," the brunette shoots back, clearly playing, possibly unaware that she has stepped over the neutral line, and into Maura's territory.

"Why not?" Maura challenges, aware that this will cause a retreat, but too caught up in those sparkling brown eyes to stop herself.

And Jane pulls back, physically and emotionally for the rest of the dinner, though when Maura looks away, she can see Jane search her profile, as though looking for the apology she can't quite make herself say.

Maura is content to let it rest. She doesn't want to push. She has no desire to force the other woman into something she may not be ready for. Whether it's her military training, her religious upbringing, or the abusive nature of her father that keeps Jane from acting, Maura can't say.

It doesn't matter.

As long as Jane shows up at her door, Maura will simply be happy that she is there.

But Jane brings it up as they clear the plates. They reach for the same one, and their hands brush, a completely cliche scenario, Maura thinks.

But there is no denying the spark of attraction that jumps between them.

Jane swallows hard, pulling away. "You have the softest hands," she says apologetically.

Maura smiles. "You can feel them whenever you like," she replies.

"Jesus, Maura," Jane says in a puff of air. She runs a hand through her hair. "Do you know how you sound when you say stuff like that?"

Maura bites her lip to hold in a smile. "I hope I sound as though I'm interested in you," she says.

Jane doesn't confirm this. She glances in Maura's direction.

"Do I sound like I'm interested in you?" she asks hesitantly. "Sometimes?"

Maura feels a quick bolt of panic at the thought that she could be misreading the situation.

"Yes," she answers. "Sometimes."

"Okay," Jane says. She rubs the back of her neck. "Okay."

"Is that an incorrect interpretation on my part?" Maura asks, stepping towards her.

"No," Jane says, countering Maura's advance with a retreat of her own. The same amount of space.

"No."

"But something keeps you from acting," Maura says. She doesn't like that they haven't come at this issue head on, but she reminds herself that this is further than they've ever gotten without Jane pulling away.

"Yeah," Jane mumbles. "But...not…" she gestures at Maura. "Not you. You're…" her cheeks turn pink.

Maura couldn't stop her smile if she had to. "Thank you," she says. "Though I'm sorry it causes you such worry."

"So...What should we do?" Jane asks the floor. "Just...not see each other anymore?"

Maura shakes her head quickly. "That isn't what I want," she says.

Jane glances at her, and then away like the action is too hard to sustain. "Me either," she murmurs.

For a long moment, neither woman says anything. Jane has begun playing with the scars on her palms again, rubbing her hands together in a circular motion.

Maura has an idea.

"Come here," she says, moving to the dining room table and pulling out their chairs.

Jane looks at her curiously as she sets them side by side, facing the refrigerator.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm fixing the tension," Maura says, sitting down on the left side. She turns to look at Jane. "Come on, Sergeant," she says, wondering if Jane knows how the name makes her straighten. "Get into the car."

A slow smile spreads over Jane's face. "You're pretending these chairs are our JLTV?" she asks, taking a step forward.

"Yes," Maura says, folding her hands in her lap, the way she usually would.

"You don't see the merit in pretending," Jane says. She takes another step closer.

"I have not seen the merit in pretending until this moment," Maura concedes. "But if this might take your nerves away, then I am more than willing to try."

Jane stares at her for a moment longer, and then turns from her to the door. Maura is afraid that she's pushed too hard, until she sees that Jane is just flicking the overhead light off.

"Okay," she says turning back. "Okay."

She sits down in the chair next to Maura, and her hands come to rest on her knees. For a while she just stares straight ahead, focusing on the refrigerator as though she can turn it into one of the hazy, desert shadows from one of their nighttime journeys.

"Do you miss it?" She asks finally.

Maura doesn't turn to look at her. "In some ways," she answers. "Of course. I miss the immediacy of the need. Sometimes I'll miss something specific...the way a child smiled at me after I'd seen to her injury. The way the coffee there smelled better than any I've yet to find here."

"They have services," Jane mumbles. "Like, for vets who are trying to get back into civilian life. Like...transition services. Do they have that for - um - DWB?"

"I'm not sure," Maura says, smiling a little. "I'm not sure I would take advantage of them if they existed."

"Why?"

"Oh," Maura sighs, and when she breathes in she could swear that the air smells heavy, like it used to. "It's so personal," she says finally. "The experience. The...feelings. They are personal."

Jane doesn't answer, but Maura sees her nod out of the corner of her eye.

The silence this time is more comfortable. Maura pretends not to see how Jane tries to start several sentences, but is unable to go through with any of them.

"Are you so afraid of me, Sergeant?" she asks, still looking ahead, her tone still as casual as ever.

Jane's jaw tightens, but she does not look angry. She looks as though she is fighting with herself to stay silent.

"Alright," Maura says gently. "Something easier then, yes?"

A minute nod.

"How many times have you wanted to kiss me?"

Jane pulls in a sharp breath, but her hesitation is miniscule. "Over there? A dozen."

"And here?"

"A dozen more."

…

…

 _Jane is shot during a reconnaissance mission, four months after she and Maura begin their outings. She is working on base, in the smaller tent meant for non-urgent issues, when the Medi-Van roars through the entrance._

 _She looks up, heart pounding, but she tries not to let the nerves show in her expression. How many times has she watched them unload soldiers from this van, praying each time that she would not see the telltale mane of black hair on the end of a stretcher._

 _It is not Jane._

 _It has never been Jane._

 _The Medi-Van door bursts open, and it is Corporal Frost. He's screaming, looking in the direction of her tent, and waving his hands, screaming her name._

 _And if Maura could hear anything properly over the panic that douses her body in ice water, she would hear that he is not saying Dr. Isles._

 _And he is not saying Sergeant Rizzoli._

 _He is saying Maura. Maura. It's Jane._

 _._

 _Later, a nurse will tell her that she knocked a doctor to the ground in order to see to the Sergeant. The nurse will tell her that she was crying, huge tears rolling down her cheeks, but that her voice was completely calm, and her hands weren't shaking._

" _Jane, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me, darling. There you are. That's it."_

 _Brown eyes blinking up at her. Lethargic. "Did I get him?"_

 _She had no idea what the question meant, but behind her she heard Frost speak up, his voice thick with emotion._

" _Yes, ma'am," he says. "You saved him."_

 _A little boy, the nurse will tell her. A little boy with an appendix scar, who saw Jane get out of her Humvee and ran into the street to see her, waving excitedly and calling her name. Oblivious to the sound of gunshots, because they were nothing more than the background to his life._

" _Jane. You have to stay awake," Maura says urgently. "Look at me. You've lost a lot of blood, so don't speak. Just keep looking at me."_

 _Jane laughs, and then coughs, and her lips are suddenly ruby red with blood._

" _Best way to die ever," she says, with that smirk that makes her dimple pop. "looking at you."_

 _That is when she cries, the nurse says. She cries the entire way through the impromptu surgery, though her hands never shake and her voice never wavers._

" _Clear!" She says, and five pairs of hands lift up, away from Jane's body._

 _The paddles come down, and the Sergeant's body arches, and then jerks back into life._

 _And Maura cries._

…

…

They move to the living room without turning on the lights, and when they sit on the couch, Maura sits as close to Jane as she can.

"Do you remember when I got shot?" Jane asks into the darkness.

Maura shivers. "I will never forget that day," she says quietly. "It was one of the most frightening days of my life. Aside from the day you disappeared."

"Did you sit next to my cot all night?"

Maura flushes at the question, but answers with the truth. "Yes. I thought if you stopped breathing in the night, no one would notice. There were only two on rounds."

"And the next night?"

"We got word that they could get a Helicopter in for you. I wanted to tell you, and then...I couldn't leave." Maura feels her cheeks get hotter.

"You saved my life."

"Ah," Maura shrugs. "Then we're even, I suppose. You saved mine, that night I was almost abducted."

"Oh," Jane sounds disappointed. "Yeah."

Maura reaches over and takes her hand. It is almost fully dark in the living room now, the only light comes from the hall, where she's left the closet open just little.

"What are you afraid of, Jane?" she asks. She brings the hand to her lips.

Jane lets out a breath that is just this side of a whimper.

"When I enlisted, Don't Ask, Don't Tell was a thing."

Maura kisses Jane's hand again. "Well I'm not asking that particular question," she says with a chuckle. "And I don't particularly care about the technical answer. I'm a doctor. It is clear that you want me."

Jane laughs. A short, embarrassed burst, but Maura feels her sober again, all at once.

"What if I can't do it?" she whispers.

Maura leans forward, intending to kiss the first piece of skin she comes in contact with. It is Jane's bicep, the same one she stitched almost three years ago.

"Can't do what?" she asks against Jane's arm, feeling goosebumps rise beneath her lips.

"Civilian life," Jane says heavily. "What if I'm not good at it? What if I...can't stay grounded? It happens to lots of guys."

"You're not lots of guys," Maura says. She has found Jane's neck, and when she kisses there, the other woman moans.

"But no, wait. Fuck-" Jane puts her hands firmly on Maura's waist and holds her back. "Wait," she says again. "Listen."

This close to Jane's face, she can see the way her pupils have dilated, a sign of her arousal. She can see the way those eyes keep flicking down to her lips.

"Jane-"

"No," Jane interrupts her. "That's what I'm saying. _You_ made it home to yourself. _You_ are Maura now. What if I never get to be...What if I never make it back to Jane. What if the things I did over there mean I don't get to be?"

This quiet confession is enough to pull Maura from the haze of desire she'd been in. She puts her hands on Jane's face, cupping her chin so that her thumbs can stroke at her ears.

"Oh," she says softly. "Jane."

"I don't have to go back," Jane says, leaning forward. Their noses graze each other. "I don't _want_ to go back. But I don't want...to just be Jane."

Her hands tighten around Maura's waist.

"What do you want, darling?" Maura asks. "What do you want to be?"

Jane takes a huge breath.

She leans forward and touches her lips to Maura's.

"Yours."

…

Maura manages to pull three orgasms from her Sergeant that night. She leaves temporary scars next to the permanent ones on Jane's bicep and chest.

She gives herself over to the moment, and she does not think once of death, or blood, or the oppressive weight of worry.

And Jane pushes Maura's sweaty hair out of her face so that they can look at each other, and she grins.

"Best way to fall asleep ever," she murmurs.

"Just looking at you."


End file.
